The Music Festival
by Captain Kobold
Summary: The crew agree to take a band to Persephone. But can they avoid Badger?


"Three hundred, my final offer"

"I say yes, I won't break even. Six hundred."

The young man looked as if he was about to say something, but he saw something over Mal's shoulder, and hastily said, "Done". As he walked off, Mal risked a glance over his own shoulder, and saw the local law officer, or 'agents' as they called them in this system. Were his newest passengers criminals? Picked on, for not being locals? Or was the man simply – and then Mal stopped himself, laughing for not having spotted it sooner. On the ground, by the door, was one of those atrocious hats that Jayne got from his mother every so often. Jayne never threw them away, and no one else was likely to want them, so Jayne must have had it on (it had been windy this morning), and as the weather heated up, he must have taken it off. So he'd been standing behind Mal for some of the bargaining, and that must have been what had been scaring the man. Satisfied, he went to tell Zoe.

Across the cargo bay, Wash was helping one of the passengers to load their luggage.

"So, what in there?"

"It's a musical instrument," said the passenger, whose name was Kell, "but it's a prototype, so please, be careful, yah?"

"Oh?" said Wash, his mind suddenly drawn back to his childhood days, when his Gramma had beaten the basics of the piano and the flute into him. "I used to do a little of that, when I was a kid. Wasn't much good"

"Well, you should appreciate this then," said Kell, who had a wicked look to his grin. Before Wash could protest, he slapped an area on the side of the box – which folded away, leaving a handle, which he pulled. The top came off, and Wash was stunned, because the box had become a little workstation, with exposed strings, keys, mouthpieces and pedals. The whole thing looked homemade from the weld marks, but Wash's eyes were immediately drawn to an inviting-looking keyboard, with pedals.

"Hey, what's this?" Wash looked up just long enough to register that Simon had just walked onto the loading bay, and that Mal, who was holding onto three guitar cases, was giving him an unfriendly look.

Simon looked at Wash, "I used to play the guitar," he said. "May I?" With a nod from a proud Kell, Simon set about familiarising himself with an arrangement of strings.

Mal walked into the thing, unable to see past the pile of sheet music in his hands. He managed to keep the sheets from falling about, but only just. "I hate to break up this little concert," he said, "but can I have my crew back? We're gonna be lifting of in a half-hour.

Kell pitched in. "But Captain Reynolds, it's a jam session"

Mal fixed him with stern look. "I don't care if it's a bread session; we're still taking off in half an hour if I have to man the cockpit myself. Now put this away, all of you!" Wearily, Mal left the hold. He was not fond of musicians. He really hoped that they would be a polite and quiet -

Suddenly, the first few bars of Beethoven's 5th, scored for synthesizer and bass guitar, blared across the hold. Mal glanced around accusingly, and Simon, Wash and Kell all set about putting the box-thing away.

Kaylee came back from town, her arms full of electronics. Beside her, Inara strolled, similarly weighed down with perfumes and oils. They were deep in conversation. Every so often they would look back to see if River was still there, holding an assortment of perfume and junk, with a look of childish wonder at their surroundings.

Stavenger had been terraformed by a group of scientists with a wicked sense of humour. They had included all of the animals the colonists were likely to need: cows, horses, dogs and bees. Then, they had rolled up their sleeves and produced freaks and wonders: velociraptors, super-smart wolves, giant spiders, and flying cows. The scientists had had further plans, but during the Unification War the labs had been destroyed and all of the scientists had been killed. The stories of the plans the scientists had had – stories of dragons, sea monsters and pigs with gills – all paled before the reality of police keeping order in the streets, riding dinosaurs.

"What are you going to do with it, anyway?" said Inara. She had decided to buy herself a shawl made from the silk of the giant spiders. The stall-keeper had been very enthusiastic about the silk, saying it was the finest he had. Inara was inclined to agree, but her interest in her purchase has diminished when Kaylee had seen her at that stall, and decided to buy a wide-brimmed hat made from raptor skin.

"I think it's shiny," said Kaylee. "Just 'cos you don't like it, don't mean Simon won't. And if he don't, _I_ like it, so I've got myself a hat."

Unable to shake her off this argument, Inara looked back to see if River was still there. To her horror, she saw River had stopped a way down the street, and was petting a tethered raptor with wickedly-curved canines showing. Inara ran down the street with Kaylee behind her, their armfuls dropped. They were halfway to her when they saw an agent standing nearby, clearly impressed with her handling of the raptor.

"What is the meaning of this?" stormed Inara. "What if she gets her hand bitten off by that thing?"

The agent looked up, and replied, "Relax, ma'am. Claude is very well trained, and anyway, the girl's a natural with him. She even knew about the ticklish spot under his chin. He won't bite her – he loves it."

Slightly mollified, Irara and Kaylee led River away from the wailing Claude. They picked up their bundles, and headed back to the ship. They spent most of the walk trying to shake dust off bottles and out of circuitry. By the time they got to the ship, they had got most of the dust out, which was a pity, because suddenly a burst of music erupted from the open hold door. The shock caused them to drop their loads again, and Kaylee and River stooped to pick bits out of the dirt again, while Inara moved towards the hold with a look of deep curiosity on her face. She was certain she knew what that music was...

When she got into the hold, she saw Wash, Simon and one of the passengers hastily putting a large box away, while a stern-faced Mal looked on. She was about to ask Mal where the noise had come from, when one of the passengers – an older man that the younger ones all deferred to – stormed out of the common room and bore down on Wash, Simon, and the younger passenger, all of whom now had guilty looks on their faces.

"What were you thinking, opening that thing here?" Then he seemed to see Wash and Simon for the first time, and added, "It sounded terrible. What were you doing, letting these clowns on it? Supposing one of our opponents had seen it, and made a better version? We can't pretend to be the best, and anyone who can come up with a better design steals our lead!" Then he turned to Mal, and said "I'm sorry, captain. This won't happen again."

Mal, who had a curious look on his face to match the one Inara sported, replied, "Glad to hear it. Mind telling me what you're travellin' for?"

"We're travellin' for the annual Battle of the Bands, in Hopespring on Persephone. The prize is a million in credit, and a contract with the Gerald Batmouth Music Company. That'll get us a grand tour, with some huge gigs across the galaxy, and in a few years, maybe we'll be able to retire from the company, with savings, and go back to the simple life, with small gigs."

Mal relaxed. It explained a lot. Musicians were reputed for their tempers and their wild lifestyles, which was what had caused the guy to be so leery of the agent. The temper was borne out by the way he'd yelled at his friend, so Mal made a mental note to have Jayne stay close to the band. Jayne had a habit of damping argumentative natures, especially if he carried a weapon. Mal made a special mental note to be certain he was armed.

It suddenly struck Mal that he didn't know most of the names of the band, particularly the guy who had arranged the trip. "Glad to hear it, Mr. – "

"Oh, I'm sorry. Jack Shrike, but the band calls me Johnny. Over there is Kevin Lewis, or Kell, he's our drummer and tuner. _This_," he said, motioning towards the door to the common area, where the rest of the band had appeared, drawn by the noise, "is Kell's brother, Manny, we call him Beartrap," this earned the crew a grin. Manny's teeth were aluminium, a victim of being kicked in the head if Mal was any judge, ", Beartrap plays the Siamese bass, Lucy Knight, she plays the synthotar," gesturing towards a slight girl with green pants, a thick top, brown hair, and the remains of a bleach treatment, who gave the crew a shy grin, "Jem Flintlock, the lead guitarist," a weather-beaten fellow with an open jacket, "and David Rong, the singer, who also does viotar if we need it," a man whose bearing suggested long holidays in privilege. The limp and the scar down one arm offset this effect.

Wash broke the silence. "Well, they're definitely musicians. No-one would suspect they was anyone ordinary."

This got mixed results. Manny left out a belly laugh, and Lucy and David gave little smiles, but Jem, who had the air of a born prankster, began preening in the laughter.

Mal left out a sigh of relief, then glanced at Zoe, who was just coming through behind the band. She had most of the day in the engine room, using instructions from Kaylee to be certain nothing exploded. She was been drawn by the noise too, it semed, and was obviously curious to see the ship overrun by strangers. Wash walked over to her, and said, "Relax, honey. They're a band, and we're taking them to a preformance on Persephone."

"Oh." Her face went from curious to interested. "I don't think I've met any musicians. Let's say hello."

Dragging Wash behind her, she crossed the floor to Johnny the manager, passing Kell and Kaylee, who were deep in conversation.

"- no, we use a Ross welder. The Finch ones don't have the durability to last out here, plus the Ross ones come with spare parts as part of the kit –"

"Really? 'Cos I've always found the Finch was an inferior machine, has a habit of breaking down on you –"

"Well, the Ross was designed for use in factories, so it hasn't got a load of spare parts – you're supposed to stay near a spaceport so's they can mail you the parts you need. But the Finch was built to work under stresses, like in space, or on colony planets –"

"Now, I've always found that the Ross lends itself to jerry-rigging far better than the Finch –"

Across the floor, Simon had come back into the hanger, led by River and carrying most of what had been dropped.

"Where were you, River? I had to look all over the ship before Mal told me you'd gone shopping with Inara. You've been gone hours, I was worried."

"Inara met Kaylee in the market, and they bought hats, and they started arguing, and I had to stop to look for the dinosaurs."

This last threw Simon; until he remembered the stores he'd heard about Stavenger. "Now, River, those were all stories that someone told you. I know that sometimes, people take advantage of tourists and tell them about alleged hauntings and monsters, but that's all just urban myths, they're never provable, and –"

"Well, why don't you ask Kaylee about her new hat, then?"

By the doors to the common room, Jayne was talking with David Rong.

"Now, I got this one," David pointed to a star- shaped burn on his wrist, "on Ariel. We were going to a gig, and Hicks – our last drummer – had dropped the viotar case off the edge of the platform, dumbass. So I jump down off the platform after it, and none of us saw the train comin' –"

"_Ho dzang _", said Jayne clearly impressed.

"Yep. Came to in the hospital, with dermal menders all over my ass and couple dozen tubes sticking out of me. Docs told me later that if Beartrap hadn't been so quick, I wouldn't even be able to stand up."

"Well, I got _this_ one," said Jayne, pointing to a bullet-crease along his arm, "on Georgia. The cap'n had been kidnapped by some local ganglord. So we storm the place, and some _liumang_ got me, right there. Arm just went numb. Had to switch hands. We got the torturin' piece of crap in the end, though."

In the door to the common room, Book was wandering through, waking up from the effects of the fasting he had insisted on while the ship was on Xenophon. He looked around the cargo bay with a drowsy expression on his face, and was about to ask Jayne who all these strange people were, when –

A chord rang through the bay. The band recognised it as D major seventh, with a misplaced middle finger. The crew just recognised it as a prime source of earache. Everyone in the cargo turned to Jem Flintlock, who was standing by the instruments with the guitar out. He stopped, looked up, and sighed theatrically. "Well, no-one was going to help me put these away, so I thought I might as well get some practice, right?"

This did not go down well, but the warning sound of the engine powering up got people moving. Within a few minutes, the instruments, and the strange box, were stowed. The various conversations moved to the common room, and Wash went to his job.

In a few days, they were approaching Persephone. They touched down, and got the gear out of the hold, while Johnny went to arrange transport. Mal had been all for taking off as soon as possible – Badger was not likely to be friendly – Johnny had pointed to a piece of the agreement that Mal had agreed to before he had known the destination. So, it was a stewing Mal who co-ordinated the unloading of the gear. The band and the crew were very animated, but when Johnny came back with a minivan he'd hired, another piece of information came out.

"What'd'you mean, you've got no money?!"

"I explained, we'd pay you out of the winnings. Now, you've heard us play, how can there be any doubt?"

Mal was furious. He must have planned this. What was worse, his part of the agreement effectively nailed him to this – this _troupe,_ until the 'gig' was over. As he went back to getting people to load the cargo, conversations went on.

"You never said you could play the piano, honey."

"You never asked."

"Well, you never struck me as being particularly musical. Or Simon, either."

"Well, I never would have thought of the guitar as being music, really, but when I picked a song, he fingered it out far faster than I did. Mind you, it's been less time since he learned, so it's not surprising."

Over at the box, the musician in question was talking.

"But I'd heard so many stories, and so much of them sounded fanciful, about dwarfs, and dragons, and giant lizards –"

"Dinosaurs aren't lizards, properly."

"Yeah, thanks, Kell, but Kaylee, the stories sounded so fanciful, and I didn't believe her, and now she's not talking to me."

"What'd'you expect? You treated her like an idiot, Simon, and no-one likes that. You have to apologise, soon."

"But I tried, she won't talk to me –"

"So try again, dumbass!"

When they got to the hall, everyone set about unloading the van. It had been a quiet ride, because the River's silence had upset them all. The band went off to practice, and Johnny showed the crew around. Everyone got pamphlets showing the bands, so they sat down to do some reading. They read about Hell's Seraphs, about The Spidermen, about Clark Kent and the Kryptonettes. Jayne got a little jumpy when he saw The Ragdolls (lead singer, Stitch Hessian), but this Stitch Hessian was apparently a woman with a voodoo doll tattoo on her face. Then they heard Johnny.

"Hey, guys, this is the main organizer, Gerald Batmouth. Mr. Batmouth – this is the crew who brought me here."

The crew stared at this man. They were stunned.

"'Allo, lads," said Badger.

The crew sat there, while the oblivious Johnny carried on.

"They brought us all the way from Stavenger. They even helped us her from the landing pad."

"Well, proper little lads an' lassies, ain't they now," replied Badger, his gaze never leaving the crew and an evil grin never leaving his face. "You an' me, we've got ta talk, Cap'n Reynolds. After I've talked sunnink over with Mr. Shrike."

He turned to face Johnny. "This concerns your band. Where are they?"

River spoke up. "They're in the back. Kell's setting up the Box for a practice."

Johnny's face turned pale. "I'd better go look for them."

The whole crew offered to help, to get away from Badger, who was known for his grudges, but in short order River, Simon and Book were the only ones who went with Johnny. The rest of the crew decided to look for the band around the back, leaving Badger alone with Mal. Badger rounded on Mal "Now, where were we?"

Mal spoke up. "I got you a buyer for that herd. Ain't my fault they was killed in a shootout with police."

"Naw, it in't really, but it is someone's fault, and guess who I'm blaming? Now, I think you owe me another job."

"Badger, somehow, your jobs always end up almost getting us killed, and also, I never seemed to get paid."

"Ain't my fault you got bad luck, Reynolds..."

"It's someone's fault, and guess who I'm blaming?"

Badger gave a little smile. "Touché. Now, getting back to the next job –"

Mal interrupted him. "I wasn't kidding about not working for you no more, Badger. Whatever your job is, you can give it to someone else, 'cos we won't touch it."

Badger grin twisted up. "Yes, you will, coz I had some of my boys check out that chippie you were carryin' last time. She just went off with the other two? I give the word, and the feds will land on you, and take her, and anyfing else they fancy, and with that on your rep, no honest trader will touch you again."

Outwardly, Mal displayed his poker face. Inwardly, he was stunned that Badger could be so extreme. It wasn't a hollow threat, either – Persephone was a nexus-point between systems, and an excellent market place besides. For Badger to take that away – He looked desperately for a way out, and found there wasn't one.

"No? Well then, if I was you, I'd expect a visit sometime soon." And with that, he walked off.

Backstage, Johnny, Simon, Book and River were looking for the band. Johnny decided they should split up. Simon had followed River, and when she had stopped for a bit, as if she was listening to something, he saw his chance.

"River?"

She stood there, not moving, not reacting at all.

"River, I've been meaning to talk to you about what I said on Stavenger. It was stupid of me to assume you were being silly, and – " He stopped. It was hard for him, the doctor, to admit he was wrong to anyone, even his sister. But she was his sister, and for her, "– and I was wrong and I'm sorry."

River turned around, and her face lit up with a grin for the first time in almost a week. "Simon, you were very silly." She gave a pre-emptory sniff of mock disdain "But you are forgiven."

Simon breathed a sigh of relief. "But," she continued, "that man needs your help."

The man in question was sitting near the stage. He had broken his hand, and the rest of his band was around him. Simon recognised some of them – they were Idelweiss, the winners from last year. The curtain was up, and the fans were not happy, to judge by the noise.

"Let me through, I'm a doctor," he said. The band got out of the way, their obvious prejudice off set by the pain of their friend. Simon looked at the arm, holding the arm and carefully poking – the man had broken his wrist. Behind him, River picked up the dropped guitar and began tuning it, as the thumping fans grew louder.

"Well, this man won't be playing any instruments for at least a week, so – "

"What'd'you mean? He's s'pposed to lead us on stage right now!" The angry druumer hoisted Simon up into the air. "Fix him, or I'll – "

Suddenly, the sound of the stamping erupted into applause as a guitar solo came off the stage. The band turned as one, to see River on stage, playing the injured man's guitar. The band recognising the music, hastily stopped the fight. They grabbed their instruments and rushed onstage to join River, leaving Simon to tend to the injured man.

"Bloody hell," said the injured man, "who is she? She damn good."

"She's my sister," said Simon with a flush of pride.

Johnny ran hurriedly through the backstage looking frantically for the band. He found them talking with Mr. Welsh, who was doing most of the paperwork for the festival.

"Ah, Mr. Shrike, now we can begin," he said as Book came into the room after Johnny. "Now, the name of your entry is – " he checked his paper, "The Flaming Tuataras, right?"

"Yes," said Johnny. They had thought the name would stand out.

"Yes, a problem has emerged. You see, two days before you applied, another band of the same name was accepted. Now, we meant to tell you, but you never told us what ship you'd be travelling on. So, you must either select a new name, or drop out."

Johnny thought fast. He hadn't anticipated this, but he should have – of the three names they'd picked, other bands had used the other two. Now he needed one, fast. Beartrap's Boys. The Flintlock Five. Boogie Knights.

"I'm waiting, and your on in 15 minutes."

In desperation, Johnny looked to Book for inspiration. Simony. Malaria. The Good Ship – and then it hit him.

"Serenity, he said, "they're called Serenity."

Mr. Welsh looked disappointed, but shrugged his shoulders and wrote on his clipboard. "Very well, Serenity, on in 14 minutes. Good luck."

Johnny turned around to face the band as Mr. Welsh left, hoping they'd approve. They'd grown used to the old name, but from their eyes he judged they were happy with the new name. Book, unaware of what he had started, went back to look for Simon and River.

He found them shaking hands with a group of thugs. Everyone was shaking hands, except for one fellow, who had his hand in a makeshift sling, and was angry about something. Book went over to mend some fences.

"Hello, you two. Been playing nice?"

Simon looked around, and the words poured out of his mouth. "You should've sen her! The guy's hand was broken and she just picked up the guitar and went out ad played, and then they didn't kill me, but it was incredible, they did three curtain calls, and the crowd is still yelling, but the rules of the festival are that if they hold the timetable up too much, they'll be penalized, And the captain gonna kill me now, isn't he?"

Book was stunned by all this, but caught up. "No, Simon, I'm certain everything going to be fine.

Everything was not fine.

To start with, River's virtuoso performance earned Idelweiss the prize, but Serenity was named first alternate. River was whisked off with the rest of the performers, and asked to do a press conference. Kaylee had gone along to keep her out of trouble. It was now three hours later, and between Badger, worrying someone would catch River, and Johnny's earlier shystering, he was a bag of nerves.

"To Serenity!" It was the third time that hour that that the toast had been heard from the combined throats of the crew and the band. Mal had been offered a drink on all three occasions, but had declined, on the grounds that the last time he took a free drink, he had woken up with a con-artist wife. He was waiting for the band to play the gig in this pub that Johnny had lined up. He cautiously brought up the idea of payment with, and with his extemporizing, Mal snapped.

"Look you little weasel, we carried three light-years, dragged your gear to the hall, watched your show. In the process, a man I really didn't want to meet threatened us, and now, we may have lost one of our friends to this circus. So give me the money, you cardsharp piece of _go se,_ or I will break our head off and use it as a footstool!"

This brought silence from the band and the crew, and further excuses from Johnny, until David piped up, with, "What about the nest egg, Johnny?"

The hesitant Johnny had tried to offer excuses, but in the face of Mal's anger, he went out to the minivan, and came back with a bag. Out of the bag, he produced a series of ornaments, to the amazement of Mal and the horror of Inara.

"Those were stolen... on Stavenger. They had notices up and anything, in the market. That's why you were so angry when Kell opened up the Box, you must have been hiding them in there!"

"Yes," sighed Johnny, "But it was only to keep a roof over our heads, until we won the contest. We thought that we could fence them on New Chastity, I knew a guy there, and that's – "

"– The first stop of the tour, yes. Oh, God," said Mal. That must have been why that guy was so leery of the agent, back on Stavenger. And he couldn't really condemn the man, not after some of the jobs they'd taken for Badger. Jayne, however, was under no such constraints, and was about to break Johnny's nose, when Kaylee ran into the bar, dragging a docile River.

"There's trouble," she said by way of hello. "At the press conference, They had to renew a sponsorship deal with Blue Sun. The guy was wearin' a Blue Sun T-shirt. Everything went fine, until she freaked out, and threw the podium at the rep. Everyone was stunned, so I just grabbed her, and we ran for it. I remembered hearing about this place from Kell, so I came here. And I thought someone was followin' me."

Mal sat at the bar. Worse and worse. Badger could've tipped off the feds, or they could be security from the conference, or Badger's goons themselves. He'd seen this place, there was only two exits. Whoever had followed Kaylee, would come through one, and be watching the other. There was no way out.

Kell spoke, he looked like he was thinking. "Hey, Johnny, you still have that special node for the speaker?"

Johnny looked blank, but then his face lit up. "Yeah! We could connect it, and they could – yeah, of course!" He started rummaging through his pockets.

"What's this about? We're trying to worry in peace here," said Wash.

"Years ago, Johnny was a head of research in marketing for Blue Sun. He developed a wave that could trick the mind into a certain state. The wave was going to be used in megastores, to trick people into spending twice as much money, shopping. When he found out what they were gonna use the wave for, he sabotaged the projections and quit. They fired his boss over it, he told us."

"But afterwards, I went over the speakers, and I found a way to apply the idea to music. I made a widget – there." Johnny held it aloft. It looked like the starter chip for a really natty car. "I plug this into the back of the speaker, and I can trick them into spending more time than they think in here. Oh, right – here, put these on" He handed the crew of the Serenity each a set of earplugs.

Simon looked at the earplugs, and at Johnny, and at the widget. "You've done this before, haven't you?"

"Once or twice. Now, the widget is set to stop half an hour after it is first activated. When they come in, he handed Mal a small remote, press _this_ button. Then put the remote into the pocket of my coat, here."

The next five minutes, while the band played, the crew was worried. When the two suits came into the pub, Mal was almost glad, as soon as they saw River, and began moving towards her, Mal hit the remote.

A whining tone came out of the speaker, and everyone else in the pub began moving in slowed-down circles. The band began playing the same riff, over and over. The two suits started taking rods out of their pockets, only to put them back in and take them out again. Carefully threading there way through the crowd, the crew made for the door, although Jayne stopped to steal things – money, coats, one of the rods off the two guys in suits. Then they were through the door, and they ran like hell.

"It's a rubbish idea."

"It's a cool idea."

"You can't sing."

"You and Wash could teach me."

"Wash and I don't know how. Maybe you could find free singing software on the Cortex, but that's mostly kid's stuff. So, for the last time, we are not forming a band!"

Simon stomped off, leaving Zoe to wonder what was wrong with the idea. Mal, who had been watching the argument as it developed, shook his head in silent laughter. He went to the cockpit, to see Wash.

"Oh, hey. This just came through, on the public band," he said, handing a sheet to Mal. Mal read it, then started laughing out loud. The sheet told the story of Blue Sun, who had decided to commence legal actions against the musical group Idelweiss, and their promoter, Gerald Batmouth, over an incident where the lead guitarist had injured an employee of the company. Idelweiss had been dropped from the company, who had decided to acquire a new band, known as Serenity. The band were not being sponsored by Blue Sun. The rest of the sheet was a collection of concert dates.

"Think we could go an' see 'em?" said Wash. He had obviously liked the band, and wanted the answer to be yes.

"Maybe. If we run into them," said Mal, whose own feelings about the band were more ambivalent. But they had kept him flying, and he owed them that much.

As he thought, he walked, and he came to the infirmary, where Simon and Jayne were about to start taking the rod that Jayne had stolen apart. But suddenly, as Jayne picked off the plate in the side, the whole thing exploded. Mal rushed in to help, as Simon and Jayne both tried to put out the sudden fire.

"What was that thing?" he asked when the fire was out.

"Well, we tried it on a rat, back at the spaceport. It's a powerful weapon, it releases chemicals to the bloodstream. First, it prevents the blood from clotting. Secondly, it begins dissolving the vein walls, causing the victim to bleed to death through their eyes and hands. The rat died in under a minute, but a human would last for a couple of minutes. Wouldn't enjoy it a bit. Jesu," said Simon, sitting down on the chair in the corner, "and they were coming after River and Kaylee. Who would _do_ that, to _anyone_?"

"Welcome to the 'verse, doc," said Mal, but inwardly, he was asking himself that same question. Even Jayne, who had few qualms that Mal had ever seen, was asking himself the same thing from the way his hands were shaking. W ho would do that to someone else?

The room was dark. High Agent Raney Metz had been on the force for most of his adult life, had received hundreds of grillings over dozens of desks, and he doubted he had ever seen a superior, of any rank, who genuinely scared him as much as this pair. When he had been assigned to this planet, to watch for the DuFresne collection to surface on the black market here, he had never expected to wind up working with anyone so creepy. They seemed to be staring at him since he gave the report of his people at the tavern. They didn't look happy that his squad had spent the night outside, and got nothing for it but a deep thirst and an earful of music. There hadn't been enough evidence to arrest the band, and the ship had been gone by the time they reached the Spaceport. But still the pair sat there, as if this was a staring contest.

His mind drifted back idly over his friends and family back on Stavenger: his mother, the finest cook in Coastside; his squadmates, his team of rookies; and Hannah, his little sea-baby, the child he'd adopted.

The first suit spoke up. "Well, High Agent, this story is very interesting, but it does not bode well for you."

His heart sank. They were going to blame him for the performance of the field agents. His heart sank at the unfairness of the situation, they had messed up too.

"Now see here, I only agreed to –" he said, as some thing pricked him on the shoulder. Probably a bee, he thought, and he continued, "I only agreed to help you because," he idly rubbed his stomach, "because of your agreement that this would not interfere with my original assignment. Now, you intend to blame me," the stomach pain was quite intense now, "for both of our mistakes and bad luck. This is," the pain was unbearable, and his fingers felt funny, "this is grossly unfair, and you, you," his fingers were painful and wet with something, and his vision was fading. He though about asking them to turn up the lights...

The two men in suits looked on passively as High Agent Raney Metz died of internal haemorrhaging, combined with loss of blood through his eyes and hands. Then they looked up, and out of the shadows stepped two younger people: a man and a woman, both in suits, both wearing passive expressions, and both apprehensive of the reactions of their superiors.

The first suit spoke up. "We were going to send him back and have him demoted. He knew nothing, and no-one would have believed him anyway."

The two standing suits were impassive, as the second suit continued, "Now we shall have to fake up a scenario, to make it seem he died in a shootout with the Tam subject. And we are both very disappointed in you both."

The standing male suit spoke up. "You killed the lawman on Ariel, and all his men. Consecutive viewing of security footage showed that they knew little, if they knew anything. Certainly not enough to cause problems."

The first suit answered. "And having learned from this mistake, we are in a perfect position to chastise you both. Now, records must be faked, and existing records altered. This ma will have died in a shootout. Understood?"

"Understood," came the reply. As they left for the door, the first suit continued, "And if you lose another prod, you will both be punished. As it is, they somehow activated the suicide mechanism, but next time, I doubt we'll be so lucky. From here on, we shall handle important field missions. Understood?"

As they left the office, the two suits sat back. They'd been lucky this time, but the Tam subject would not make such an obvious target of herself again. Her gifts were the property of their masters. They would be returned to their rightful owners, and anyone who attempted to stop them would be briefly regretful. And then, they would never be.


End file.
